


Will You Still Love Me In The Morning?

by averageclawenfangirl



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Clawen, F/M, Owen's Pining For Claire, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averageclawenfangirl/pseuds/averageclawenfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire is always on Owen's mind, even when she really shouldn't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Still Love Me In The Morning?

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a Tumblr prompt I received - I really hope you guys enjoy!

“Will you still love me in the morning?” She whispered behind him, liquor still sweet on her breath as she laughed. Owen was glad she couldn’t see his twisted smirk as he fumbled around for the right key, the one to let them into his home. “Sure thing, sugar,” he replied; easily, _too_ easily, alcohol making him lazy in his defences, slow on his reactions. Neither of them were blind drunk, but it hadn’t stopped them. She slid her hands down his arms as she hummed her approval, along with something about being eager to get inside and _get his clothes off._

It was simple, and a simple life was exactly what Owen Grady was seeking. War had made him angry; useless fighting for a cause he never really understood. He required solace for his shattered soul, his mind seeking repair. When he was discharged from the Navy and had never felt more hopeless, the call from Masrani came through, offering him the chance to work with velociraptors on Project IBRIS. Sure, he had his opinions of Jurassic World, none of them blindingly positive, but if there was one thing Owen had learned in his thirty-six years, it was that you always missed the shot you didn’t take. 

He saw his past self in the animals. Eager; fierce teeth, wild eyes, no care for anyone but themselves. Acting on instinct, and instinct alone. Owen revelled in their training, surprising himself with how deep the bond between him and his four girls had progressed. He was immersed in his work, and retreated to his solitary cabin on the outskirts of the park at the end of every shift, save for a few nights when Barry brought him out for tequila. The SunRio bar, ever the temptress, dragging him back most weekends. 

Owen wasn’t one to deny himself of pleasures in life, and indulging in beautiful women was one of them. He knew he was above-average looking; and women found themselves attracted to his past, the rugged ex-Seal with no family ties. Owen could see it in their eyes in the darkened recesses of the bar, eager to hear more from the mysterious military man. His arrogance carried a reputation; but usually he restricted himself to the local girls, ones who came over for one night on the ferry, looking to party with the tourists. 

She was all over him once the screen door banged shut behind them; and Owen mulled over the question of love when she kissed him, his mind travelling to a further plane. _Love. What an odd concept._ Sure; he’d loved his junkie mom, before she’d died of an overdose when he was ten years old. Sure, he’d loved the dog he’d had while he was in the military - Athena, his Alsatian and best friend, shot dead on a mission when she was only three years old. Love was almost too painful to bear, and there he was, the word rolling off his tongue to some woman he barely knew. _Marie? Maria._

It was cute, the way she’d approached him and asked to buy him a drink. Owen admired that sort of spirit in a woman. Maria told him that she was at Jurassic World with a few execs from her company, here to discuss the park’s charities. She was gorgeous; long, tanned limbs and honey blonde hair. She was a businesswoman, too, a girl who knew her own mind, who knew what and _who_ she wanted. Maria told Owen she was twenty-seven, and he sighed his admission that she was too young for him. _Age was just a number_ , the woman remarked, her hand reaching out to rest against his thigh. 

The rest of the evening was a heady, flirtatious blur, and somehow Maria had ended up gripping his hand, refusing to let go, following him back to the bungalow. _Another distraction_ , he thought now as she popped the buttons on his shirt. _Another distraction, from_ her. The perfection Owen would never manage to achieve. Claire Dearing, a woman he’d put on a pedestal long ago to admire. He’d never met a woman more attractive in his lifetime; she spoke back every time he gave it, ice in her eyes, fire in her hair. 

They were two alphas, two cut from the same cloth. Two loners, essentially, on a island filled with twenty thousand people. Owen knew Claire kept to herself, that she didn’t have friends at the park. He respected that, related to it. He’d seen her in action in the boardroom, tearing a new one into a guy twice her age. She was magical; acid words dripping from her tongue as she won battle after battle, dressed to kill in a way that didn’t conceal her incredible body; the waist that would fit too well between his hands, the ass that jutted out in a way that nearly killed him.

Claire was classy, intelligent, way beyond his reach. Owen teased her mercilessly, not out of spite, but to see her cheeks flush red; her teeth sink down onto that bottom lip as she tried not to laugh at his jokes. Owen tried and failed not to think of Claire as Maria pushed him back onto his bed, straddling him, pulling her dress over her head in the moonlight. His hands gripped her waist; his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, begging himself to focus on the girl in front of him, and to stop fantasising about a woman who couldn’t stand him on his best day. 

_Was he in love with Claire Dearing?_ It seemed foolish to think so. Owen longed for her, sure, so badly it hurt. He wanted to kiss her till her lips bruised, to tear away the prim suits she wore everywhere in godforsaken heat on the island. He wanted to see her wild side. He wanted her for his own, to treat her in the way she deserved. Maria reached for the buckle on his pants, the sound of her carefree laughter bringing him back into the here and now. He couldn’t help himself, though, his mind wandering. What would _Claire’s_ slender thighs feel like around his torso? _Her_ breasts beneath his hands? 

Not a day went by where Owen and Claire didn’t argue; the tension simmering, almost boiling over. He could have sworn she wanted him too, maybe in the darkest depths of her mind. Claire was too good for him, and Owen knew that, but the thoughts of what he would do to her never left his mind. Certainly not now, as Maria continued to undress him. _Not ever_ , Owen supposed, turning the tables on the woman, flipping them over. He pressed kisses delicately along her neck, enjoying the sounds it produced from her, pleading with himself internally not to utter Claire’s name when he reached his moment of ecstasy. 


End file.
